Souvenirs
by i.paint.the.sky
Summary: What ever happened to the Galactica Museum? This is my answer. Centers on the early Roslin and Adama relationship, set sometime early in season one probably around the same time as the episode Water .


[A/N: I recently bought the season 1 DVD set and so have been thinking about the early A/R relationship a lot. Even if you could hardly call them friendly at times, they really always did play off each other in amazing ways.

And, of course, it really is incredible, how far these two came, from the mini-series to the finale. If you told either of them at the beginning how things would be in the end, I'm sure they would have called you crazy. And in many ways, that's the best part.

Also, it's something to think of that doesn't involve Daybreak.]

* * *

Souvenirs

As Laura walked through the hallways of the Battlestar _Galactica_ she could appreciate the reasons Billy kept getting lost. It was a big ship, a very big ship. It was one of the reasons she had tried to convince the Commander to set up networks, so that a map system could be put in place.

Given the current situation, she was very thankful that she had lost this particular argument. If you could even call it an argument, she thought, smiling slightly. It had really been more of a dressing down.

Still, it would be awhile before she was able to navigate these hallways without someone to guide her. Not that she would likely have to try. She was the President now, as she kept reminding herself. The leader of what was left of humanity, all 47,973 of them (and counting). That meant that wherever she went she would be, like she was now, accompanied by not only a guide but also a security detail.

Finally a door opened and revealed her finale destination: the starboard flight pod. Or perhaps _former_ flight pod was more accurate. She looked around, shaking her head at the sight of models and displays of what was supposed to be the Galactica Museum. Most of the old Vipers were gone, of course, but there were still quite a number of pieces left. She found she could no longer look at most of it, especially the model of the Cylon Centurion. It was still shocking to know that the Cylons looked human now. How could you trust anyone, knowing that?

She pushed these thoughts away – at least for the time being – as she walked toward the podium. It seemed a lifetime ago that she had stood there, listening to Commander Adama's highly unusual speech. Now she went to join him, to figure out what to do with all this junk.

"Commander," she called out as she drew near.

Adama turned toward her. "Madame President."

She looked around the area again. "All this seems pretty silly now."

"It seemed ridiculous then," he replied. She shook her head with a smile, conceding his point without commenting on the tone in which it had been made.

"So what am I doing down here? Surely whatever decision you make will be a military one. It's your ship."

He glanced at her briefly, looking as stern as ever – though on second thought, was that a hint of a smile? No, probably not. "The displays are government property. They belong to you."

"Wonderful," Laura replied. "I'll never run out of velvet rope."

Now there, that was a smile. At least for a moment.

"All jokes aside," she continued after a moment, "we should take an inventory of all the supplies; find out what can be reused elsewhere. It may be awhile before we have access to such materials again, from metal down to stationary. Will you be needing to use this part of the ship again?"

"No," Adama said, as he began to walk towards the gift shop. "The port flight pod will be able to support military operations." He stopped for a moment, beside the Centurion model. She remembered what he'd told her before, about the lives lost because people wanted a faster computer. She hadn't fully appreciated the horror of what the Cylon War – now the First Cylon War – meant then. Now that had changed in the worst possible way.

"Commander," she said softly. He looked over at her quickly, before beginning to walk again.

It was another moment before he spoke again. "I don't have any men or women to spare for inventory, not now."

"Of course. I shall look into finding a staff member for the assignment, once things are calmer." _If things are ever calmer_, she added in her head. One look at Adama confirmed that these were not words that needed to be spoken.

"Alright," he said. "That settles that."

"Yes it does," Laura agreed. "Yet another item on the to-do list checked off. Shall we leave it at that for today?"

He nodded. "Have a safe journey back to your ship, Madame President."

"Thank you," she said, before turning and walking away.

It hit her, as she reached the hatch that led to the other side of the ship, that this museum had saved her life. If it hadn't been for these exhibits, these models and historical moments, she would have been on Caprica when the Cylons attacked. That thought in her head, she turned around, looking at it all one last time.

"It's amazing," she said softly to herself. "The little things that change your world."

"Madame President?"

She turned back to her guide. "Let's go. Hopefully I can get some sleep before the next crisis."


End file.
